


Omovember #10 - Tied Up

by TheTimelessChild0



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Desperation, Friendship, Omovember, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 00:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21383227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/TheTimelessChild0
Summary: Clara knew a lot about the Doctor. What she didn't know was that the Doctor really needed the toilet at that moment.
Kudos: 7





	Omovember #10 - Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is not me *doing omovember, I literally just came up with this prompt when looking through the list.

As soon as the Zygons left the room, the Doctor instantly tried to wriggle out of the ropes. His eyes went wide, and he had to stop after 5 seconds. See, what he hadn’t taken into account, was how much time he’d spent outside of the TARDIS at this point. 3 days, and 12 hours, roughly. And the one thing he still didn’t ever talk to Clara about; his bladder. Sure, he’d made the existence of his kidneys pretty clear right after he regenerated, but managed to keep their _ function _ secret, until now. The Doctor hoped to keep it that way, despite the fact that his bladder veritably growled whenever he’d move even an inch in his chair. 

Clara was used to the Doctor’s impatience, and rushed attempts at solving problems. He would only blow himself up less than half the time. And in this instance, she figured it could be very useful. 

“Try to reach your sonic” she reminded him after his 10th attempt at wriggling without pressing on his full bladder. 

The Doctor made a noise of agreement, and wriggled his body once more. But, in order to bend his skinny right arm the right angle to reach into his pocket, he also needed to bend forward in a way that immediately threatened to make him leak. The Doctor needed to twirl his shins together, to clench his lower muscles, as crossing his legs under his chair, meant his feet hitting Clara’s. And he couldn’t come up with an explanation for that, if she asked. 

“I can’t,” the Doctor informed her, with a sigh.

Clara considered potential solutions for a moment. 

“Why don’t you just shimmy out of the ropes? You’re basically a skeleton” she commented. 

“That’s the first thing I tried, remember?” he retorted, annoyed. His hands were tied to the back of his chair next to Clara’s, so even if she wouldn’t see it, he _ couldn’t _ grab himself. 

“Just, try again, harder. What if you stand up?” Clara suggested. 

“That’s definitely not happening,” the Doctor scoffed. He sort of meant to say that to himself. But of course, she heard it. 

“What are you talking about?” she asked, confused.

The Doctor’s breath hitched, as he realized. 

“Er, nothing! Forget I said anything” he backtracked. Unsuccessfully. He let out an audible whimper in frustration. 

“Doctor. What’s going on?” Clara asked, firmly. 

“Technically, I _ can _ ‘shimmy’ out of this chair, but..I really don’t want to,” the Doctor answered, carefully.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, now concerned. 

“No..but my reputation _ will _ be,” he elaborated, hoping it would be clear enough.

Clara did her best to turn around as far as she could in her chair, and looked at the Doctor. His stature was stiffer than a weeping angel, whilst bent over slightly, just enough to soothe him. 

“Do you need the loo?” Clara asked kindly. 

“Yes, and there’s no way I can get free without.._ it _..happening,” the Doctor admitted solemnly.

Clara took some deep breaths, to prepare for what she was about to say.

“It’s alright, just do it. _ Go _, then you can free us both after,” she invited. 

“What.” he deadpanned, not believing her words. 

“You’re not going to get out of this with clean trousers, you might as well get relief _ completely _,” Clara reasoned. 

“Really?” the Doctor checked, uncertainly. 

“I’ve seen you do it before, go on,” Clara nudged him with her shoulder. 

The Doctor had no recollection of doing such a thing in front of her, so out of interest, and because she was clearly telling the truth, he agreed. 

“Ok. How?” despite what Clara said, the last time the Doctor _ remembered _wetting himself, was with Amy, in Venice. So, he didn’t exactly have the experience of doing it so close to his companion.

“Think of something relaxing, watery,” Clara recommended. 

The Doctor didn’t respond, just thought back to that time, in Venice. He was standing on top of the church tower, where the device that created the rain was, bladder bursting. He’d already spurted a couple of times while climbing up. After pressing the right buttons to turn of the storm, he noticed that the rain took some time to stop. So, since Amy was all the way down there, and he couldn’t see her, the Doctor decided to just get it over with. With the rain soaking his trousers, he _ soaked them _ as well. With urine. Fortunately, the spire was ridgy enough to allow for the pee to stream together with the rainwater, no one would be able to tell them apart on the ground.

The relief of the memory, blended with the relief the Doctor felt, letting go in his trousers in the present. He didn’t even think about Clara behind him, hearing every noise, every sigh. He did make a note, in the back of his mind, that she seemed to have scooted forward just a bit, to keep her clothes as clean as possible during this process. 

The Doctor accidentally bumped his head against Clara’s head in ecstasy, upon finishing.

“Sorry.” he apologized. 

“For what, bumping your head, or weeing in your trousers?” Clara chuckled.

“The first one,” the Doctor emphasised, laughing as well. 

He quickly got out of the ropes and freed Clara. 

********** back in the TARDIS**************

The Doctor joined Clara in the console room after showering and changing his clothes. He was combing his hair while Clara set the TARDIS to take her back to her flat.

“What did you mean, before? When you said I’d done.._ that _, next to you before,” the Doctor asked casually.

“Right, you don’t remember. Your head was a bit wobbly still..it was right after you regenerated, while we were in Victorian London. You remember how you leapt out of the window, bartered yourself an old coat of a bum and then randomly showed up in that restaurant?” Clara double-checked. He’d been pretty out of it for the first few hours they were there. The Doctor nodded. 

“Remember how there was a really strong smell?” 

“Yes,” the Doctor rose his eyebrows. He remembered it well. Not that it was necessarily there, it could’ve been the cotton in the tablecloth. Regeneration tended to hype up the senses. 

Clara stifled a laugh, as the Doctor didn’t even blush. He really didn’t remember..

“Well, when we were handcuffed to our chairs, going down that shaft, I saw what was causing it,” she explained. 

The Doctor looked at her, curiously. 

“It was you. There was a big orange-y wet spot on the front of your pyjama bottoms,” Clara stated.

The Doctor put a hand on his forehead, shaking his head with regret. 

“Blast it, now I remember. I actually think the last few spurts came out when you hit me with my sonic screwdriver,” the Doctor added. 

“I wondered how it suddenly got bigger..well, better that than in the bed. Then you wouldn’t have slept,” Clara smiled. 

“Or maybe I would, screaming ‘ I’m Peeing!’ out into the streets!” the Doctor nearly keeled over with laughter. 

\---

From that day onward, The Doctor always went to the loo before he left, whether Clara was there or not. Sometimes even _ because _ Clara showed up. 

The End.


End file.
